Empty Beds And Empty Coffee Cups
by Girl number 1
Summary: Sometimes an affair is the only thing you've got. The only thing that keeps you going. It eventually becomes the only thing that keeps you alive.


Author's note: Sometimes an affair can be the only thing you've got. The only thing that keeps you going. The only thing that keeps you alive. There's some symbols in it. The pairing is pretty open for you to pick. Comments and constructive critisism is appreciated.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that is the property of J.K Rowling. Nor do I claim I own anything else except the story I've written.

Story title:

Empty beds and empty coffee cups

She lived her life in moments. It was in the minutes and seconds that she felt truly alive. In bits and pieces lay her existence. Some days she found it pathetic. Living like a double agent. Days where body and mind didn't cooperate. The body acted whereas the mind drifted. Other days she found herself blessed. Seeing a younger generation more dead and ungrateful. Parks void of love. Life wasted in office landscapes and coffee cups. There were days where it wasn't enough. The feeling of starvation would take over. Dam it she needed more of it. She needed more of him.

There had been a time when she needn't wait long. Some days it only took a raised eyebrow. One raised eyebrow before he'd grab her hips. He loved to paint skin purple and blue. He found her much prettier like that. Sometimes he'd draw blood and paint her red. Red was a beautiful colour. The colour of love, the colour of virgins and the colour of her swollen lips. She didn't mind the teeth tearing her skin. She didn't mind the nails digging in her hips or back. She didn't mind the knife he had a habit of threatening her with. In fact she'd hurt him just so he'd follow through with the threats. Those were times she knew… She knew it had happened. The bruises and cuts were proof of that.

There had been a time when she had to wait. Doubt and questions would fill her when he wouldn't. Did it really happen between them? Was it all her imagination? Was she so desperate that she'd let herself imagine that he… Was he with her right now? Was he gentle with her? Was he kissing her, holding her god forbid telling her that he loved her?

When he finally came around she wanted to leave. Torn between want, need and duty.

She had responsibilities. Obligations to her kids and her husband. Even her work at the ministry was suffering from…. What was this? Did it have a name? She didn't know. For the first time in her life she was clueless. There was no name for it. There was no textbook answer. Her mind came short. All that she knew was what she felt. Her heart would start racing. Her body would tremble with anticipation. Sweat would start dripping off her skin. Her hips would start moving at a record pace.

Was she really cheating on her husband? In his arms she didn't give a damn. She never loved her husband enough to evoke guilt. In fact she never loved him period. All she knew was what she felt. Which in turn made her feel like she knew nothing at all. Lust wasn't an issue. There had been plenty others. None of them had been him. They had all brought her up and brought her down. That sort of trip that she managed just fine alone. They just weren't him period.

There was a time in between all of that. He'd treat her soft and gentle; like a child. Those were times that never lasted. Too soon would it end. But god was it perfect.

Perhaps it was love. She had never quite gotten over him. Maybe it was love. God knew how many times she tried to leave. No that was a lie. If she wanted to she would have. She didn't. All attempts were just to humour her sensible mind. Then what was it!

"Fancy meeting you here" The voice startled her.

"Am I living dead?" Now it was his turn to startle. The question had died on her lips for 29 years. Today finally it didn't.

"I'm not quite sure I understand."

"I'm not sure I do either."

"I believe you asked me if you were…"

"Living dead yes. Am I? Because quite frankly the only time I feel as if I'm remotely alive is"

"With you." He finished for her. They gazed silently at each other. Moonlight cast an eerie shade of pale blue over her face. Slowly he leaned towards her in the dark. She smelled his breath. He'd been drinking. His dry cracked lips touched her soft ones. Together they walked backwards until he had her pressed up against a tree.

She lived her life in moments. It was in the minutes and seconds they shared; that she felt truly alive. In bits and pieces lay her existence.


End file.
